My Fear
by BflyW
Summary: Nick has a fear, and it's not anything he has experianced before. Nominated for CSI fanfiction awards 2006. Vegas - Angst One-shot, but is followed by a sequel.


**MY FEAR**

I have a fear.

It's not like any fear I have experienced earlier. It is not the fear of being hurt or injured. It is not the fear of my life ending and I'm missing out on my life. It is a whole new level of fear, and I think it's all-consuming.

You might be confused - let me start with the beginning, or at least what was the beginning for me.

It was supposed to be an ordinary job. I was called out to a scene, and was met by Brass. I am so glad it was Brass that was on call that night. If it had anybody other than Brass or maybe Vartann, I wouldn't have known what to do. But those two, they know how to handle things discreetly, and to respect their co-workers, even us CSI's. I have always appreciated that in them. So, yeah, I will be forever grateful that it was Brass that first greeted me on the scene.

There was nothing to alert me that this would be a special case when I first arrived. It was a house. An ordinary house, except with the access cut off by yellow crime scene tape. Brass met me half way and started informing me, like he always did. I was the first CSI on the scene, but I knew both Greg and Grissom would arrive shortly.

"Female, in her early 30's. Found stabbed in her living room. A knife that looks like the murder weapon is on the floor. Her daughter was found next to her." At this Brass was nodding towards the ambulance already at the scene, and a small child covered in blood was sitting wrapped in a blanket on the gurney.

"Is she alright?" I asked as I threw another look at her. Cases concerning children always get to me, and it didn't help that this kid tilted her head in exactly the same manner as my niece. I felt a knot forming in my stomach as I saw the paramedics checking her out.

"She has no visible wounds, but seeing her mother get murdered, that can never be good…" Brass let the rest hanging in the air, none of us voiced the concern we both had about a children being traumatized for life.

"And her father?" I asked wondering if he had been notified.

"The victim is unmarried, and the father unknown."

"Any relatives?"

"Not that we know of."

By this time we had reached the house and entered the hallway. There was nothing special about it at first glance. The wall was covered with pictures, a family gallery like so many other family galleries. And that is when the case turned.

A smile reached me from one of the pictures, and sparkling eyes were coupled with light blond hair blowing in the wind. I couldn't stop looking at the picture, and Brass had to call my name twice before I followed him into the living room. It was with unease I crossed the doorstep and entered the room. The same blond hair was covered in blood, and the smiling eyes were now hollow and pale, and most definitely lifeless. I turned. I manage to get outside the perimeters before I lost all my stomach contents and I only vaguely heard Brass's concerned voice behind me. He obviously knew there was something wrong, he just didn't have any indication as to what.

"Are you okay?" The detective kept his distance, but the concern in his voice reached me all the same.

"Yeah" I said, knowing I was lying. I was not okay, and I had no idea what to do. I turned and looked at the girl sitting in the ambulance again, and then it hit me. I knew…. "I," I broke off not sure how to continue. "I can't work this case," I finally said.  
Brass nodded, knowing when not to ask questions.

"Griss is on his way over, I'll tell him as soon as he arrives. Will you ask him to see me when he gets here?" Brass nodded again and left me alone. That was exactly what I needed right now; freedom to gather my thoughts.

I had sunk down on the curb by the time Grissom arrived. He stopped his pace towards the house, and turned towards me.

"Something wrong, Nick?" he said, tilting his head towards the right.

"I can't work this case," I said for the second time this day.

"Why not?" he asked, not because he was curious, but because he is my supervisor.

"I know the victim," I said, "knew, I mean. Some time ago."

"That hasn't stopped you before," he correctly threw back. I had worked cases where I at least knew well who the victim was.

"I dated her. Years ago. For a short time." He looked at me giving me the indication that he sensed there was more.

"I think maybe the kid is mine." With this his head tilted even more and an eyebrow arched.

"Her kid, unknown father. She's the right age, and I have to say: she looks like a Stokes."

Grissom hardly ever gives credit when you do something right, but I have to give it to him; he doesn't judge either when you are up to your knees in shit. And right now, I was thankful for that.

"So, I guess we'll have to do a DNA test then." Grissom, always focus on the case.

"Yeah," I nodded, "and Griss…do you mind if we have Greg run the test?"

THIS IS A LINE THIS IS A LINE THIS IS A LINE

So that was how it all started. A crime scene where an ex-girlfriend had been murdered, and a kid that I though might be mine. I was scared shitless, and I hadn't even come to the fear about possibly being a father. I was scared what Greg would say, and my mother. Yeah, that would be great. My mother who always nagged me about finding a nice woman, get married and produce grandchildren. I could just imagine that conversation. "Yeah, mom. Look. I have a kid, born out of wedlock, the mother is dead, and yeah – I'm gay by the way."

Well, bisexual that is. But it didn't really matter if I'm gay or bi as long as I'm with Greg. He was my biggest concern. "You see Greg, that kid… well, the kid from the scene… well, she might be mine." God, it's not like I hadn't put him though enough already by hiding him from my family, wanting to keep us a secret from our friends, and now I had to throw a possible daughter I'd had no knowledge of onto him. If I hadn't already lost all my stomach contents, I would have lost them now.

The conversation with my mom I could stall, but Greg… Greg arrived just minutes after Griss, and Grissom immediately sent him over to me.

"Nick?" Greg said with concern, but kept the professional distance. He would never out us  
at work, and he didn't do it this time either.

"Hi Greg," I said, not even worried about being outed. Now, what I really wanted was to be close to Greg, and I only motioned to him to sit down next to me.

"Something wrong?"

"The victim," I started, "I knew her. I dated her, a few years ago."

Greg knew I had a past and he would never hold that against me.

"It didn't last long, just a few months, and we, well we broke it off. I haven't seen her since though. It's just that…" I looked at him. I wanted to look at him one more time before I broke the news, before I possibly turned his world upside down. "There's a kid. She has a kid, and I think it might be mine."

I could see how Greg paled, but he never said a word. I have many times wondered what went though his mind in that moment, but I haven't had the courage to ask.

"Are you sure?" His voice was shivering, and I couldn't help but put my hand on his.

"No," I said, "But she looks an awful lot like my niece, and she is the right age for it. And father is unknown".

"Oh," he said giving my hand a squeeze. I don't know whether it was to give him or me the reassurance.

"I want you to take do the DNA test," I said. He only looked at me.

"I know you're not in the lab anymore, but you still know how to do it. I want it to be you who read the result first."

* * *

I know running the DNA isn't what Greg wants to do nowadays, but he couldn't say no. I actually think he preferred doing it himself, so that he knew the result would be handled with care, and that the words wouldn't be spread throughout the lab. He confessed to me later though, that when waiting for the result, he went though all kind of emotions - from wondering how I would react if it was a positive match to how I would react if it was not. What I would do if it was my child, and what he would be to that kid. Also how he would react to maybe taking care of a kid, and he even thought I might leave him if I had a kid to take care of. I can honestly say that thought never occurred to me. I was scared maybe he would leave though, but I needed him more than ever.

I have nieces and nephews, but that's not the same. And besides, they all live far away, so it's not like I had any experience with kids. And especially not full time and one that had witnessed her mom being killed. I had absolutely no idea how to behave, all I knew was that if this kid was mine, I would not turn my back on her. She might have come as a total surprise and shock, but I have never been, and hopefully will never be, one to turn my back to my responsibilities. And besides, to my surprise, I wanted to take care of her for more than responsibilities. As soon as I realized she probably was mine, it was important to me to make sure she was safe. More important than the urge to protect the kids that I feel with any case that involves kids. This child was special. She was most likely my child. And she was innocent. Whatever had happened in her life so far, she had no fault in it, and it was my responsibility to make sure that she would have a safe and good upbringing, except I had no idea how that would happen.

* * *

The ambulance drove of with her shortly after Greg and Griss had arrived at the scene. The image stayed though. I would cast a glance towards the spot where the ambulance had stood, and I could still see her. That's when I decided that I needed to be with her. I needed to be at the hospital with her.

Getting to see her at the hospital was another matter though. I had to flash my badge a couple of times. I knew it wasn't the correct thing to do, considering I was no longer working the case, but I knew Grissom would never call me on that. She was physically fine. Not a scratch. All the blood on her was her mother's. A lot of blood. The team would later realized that she had been by her mother's side for more than an hour before she had been found. She had plenty of time to touch her, trying to wake her up, and playing with her dead mother's hair. She had been crying. That's what alerted the neighbours. The crying. She never used to cry that long.

Child Services were at the hospital when I arrived. They had been called in, and they could inform me that there were no relatives other than her mother's brother. He, however, was nowhere to be found. Knowing that there was no way Child Services would just hand her over to my care, I didn't inform them of my suspicions at the time. I wanted the DNA result first. All I could do now was to watch over her. I could sit by her bed and watch her sleep. Her innocent sleep. She looked so peaceful. She didn't look like she had just been through what I hoped would be the worst experience of her life. She just looked peaceful and I couldn't help touching her hair. I wanted to lift her up and hug her, but I settled with stroking her hair. She looked so peaceful and I didn't want to wake her up.

Thank God I know Catherine. Catherine would know a thing or two about raising kids. And my sisters as well of course, I could call them at any time, I knew that. But I still knew that when all came to all, it would be me, hopefully in companionship with Greg, who would raise this kid, and make sure that she was safe at the end of the day. I could only hope I would find the strength and wisdom to meet the challenge.

* * *

It wasn't until a week later I got the result. Unlike what you often see on TV, DNA takes time. We have a good lab here in Las Vegas, and Greg made sure my test was first priority, but still, it took over a week. That was a week of agony. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep. I think I shut Greg out. He never said anything about that either, but I think I really hurt him. I was so wrapped up in my own fears that I forgot to consider how all of this affected him. We were just on the verge to move in together - as roommates; we hadn't come out at work or to my family. Throwing a kid in the mix meant being open. We couldn't raise a kid together and pretend to the world we were nothing more than friends. It all had to come out, and as I have learned later, Greg feared that I would rather try to raise the kid alone than admitting to the world I was gay. I guess he could have been right. I could have done that. I could have had those thoughts, except that I was so afraid of the situation that coming out to the world was less scary than being alone.

When Greg came to see me in the break room, holding a piece of paper, I knew what it was. I was shaking. Greg was shaking. I wanted him to tell me right away, and I wanted to tell him to throw the paper away. I had no idea what I wanted. I think I was mostly afraid of being wrong. I had had a week to fall in love. I had had a week to get to know the girl; Lisa is her name. I had grown attached to her, and if that paper showed me the wrong answer, it would tear my heart apart. I wanted him to go away, to take that paper away and leave me alone with Lisa.

He sat down across for me, holding the paper. He looked at it, like he hadn't already read it. I knew he already knew. He opened his mouth, but decided to just give me the paper instead.

She was mine.  
She is mine  
I have a daughter.

I have a daughter and she is 3 years old. She is 3 years old, and she had just lost her mother and gotten a father.

I had been to the hospital every day. I didn't want to leave, except they made me. I couldn't stay all the time, unless I was family. I was not. I mean I was. I am. They just didn't know it yet.

Amanda Rice was her emergency contact. She had been there every day as well. I hadn't met her there yet. It was not intentional; our path had just not crossed. I had met her before though, Beth's best friend. I was not surprised Beth had assigned Amanda to be the guardian if something was to happen to her, Amanda loved Lisa. I wonder if Beth knew all along something would happen. I must admit, I was intimidated by Amanda at first. She knew Lisa so well. She knew her and had her trust, and I saw her as a threat. I was afraid Lisa would love her more and not want to get attached to me. I admit that now. I'm not proud of it, and I won't admit it to other than Greg, but he knows. He was the one who called me on it.

"Give Amanda a chance," he told me, but I only brushed him off, again pushing him away. He was so kind to me, giving me so much space to be an ass, and not picking a fight. Not once. Knowing how Greg can blow up at me at times, I really have to admire how he never opened his mouth to put me in my place in those first weeks.

Child Services wouldn't let me have Lisa, even though I could prove I was the father. They handed her over to Amanda. Not permanently, but for a while, only until Lisa and I could get to know each other. I could see the logic in that, but my pride was somewhat hurt. Why didn't they trust me? Didn't they think I could be a good father? Of course all they knew was that Beth for some reason had kept Lisa away from me. I had no idea why, but I had a suspicion Amanda knew. Another reason to fear her. Did she know something that could hurt Lisa and my relationship? She knew something important about me and my daughter, and I didn't even know. I think I even hated her a bit for that.

* * *

The team collected enough evidence to build a case. Even though I was no longer on the case, they informed me on the findings, and all evidence pointed towards the missing brother. I had never met him, couldn't even recall her mentioning him. What I heard Amanda tell Brass and Warrick in an interrogation shocked me though.

Beth's brother had showed up about 3 weeks after we split. She had just found out about the pregnancy, and according to Amanda, she had all intention to tell me. That was until her brother showed up. He had used her past, which I hadn't known about, to blackmail her. She had landed a good job her in Vegas, and wanted to keep it. But he could easily spread the word about her former drug-abuse. She had been clean for years when I met her, but information like that didn't go well when you were still trying to land a steady job at a company with a strict drug policy. So she took him in and provided for him, like he wanted her to. He was hiding from the law and was highly paranoid when it came to anyone working for the law. And he didn't stand back for hurting anyone, not even his sister or her kid. Beth had been so afraid he would hurt her unborn child, or even make her get rid of it if she revealed that the child's father was working in law enforcement. There was no way she wanted to risk that, so she made the decision to keep the father's name a secret, even from me.

She had been right though. Her brother hadn't been afraid of murder, and when her financial support had stopped, he had killed her. Lisa had most likely hidden under her bed, and that was probably what had saved her. Now, my identity as Lisa's father was out, to the brother and the CSI-team, but Lisa was safe. They did find Beth's brother in Arizona, and he was arrested without any problems. He is now facing a life sentence, and I hope he never sees daylight again.

The team was accepting, of both Lisa and our relationship. They were surprised, but accepting. I think Warrick had most trouble grasping me being gay, but he didn't say anything. He was the one getting married in a hurry after my burial, so if anyone can understand how an event like that can force you into follow your need for love and comfort, it must be him. Sara just smiled, and Cath gave us both a huge hug claiming she had never bought the room-mate excuse in the first place. She also offered to baby-sit as often as we needed. Grissom gave us both two days off to paint the nursery.

* * *

It took two months from the DNA came through to Lisa finally moving into the nursery we had prepared for her. Greg had gone bananas at Toys R' Us and filled the room with stuffed animals of all kinds. It looked like a fluffy jungle.

We had picked up her toys from her old room and also put a picture of her mom on the shelf. It was by doing that I realized how much we actually needed Amanda. She might have felt like a threat to me then, because I was insecure about the whole parenting thing, but I suddenly realized that she was the one person that could answer all the questions Lisa might have later in life. I didn't know Beth that well. I knew her for what? Three months? Amanda had known her most of her life and could tell Lisa what her mother had been like. Amanda wasn't a threat or someone to exclude me from Lisa's life, we would both be important in her life, and if I could only stop being a jerk, it could actually turn out well. And I was pretty sure that if I didn't stop acting like a jerk, Greg would make me stop. He has patience with me, but it only goes so far, and on this subject I think he was starting to wear out. His answers when I brought up the subject Amanda were starting to get shorter and shorter, and I am sure he bit his tongue to stop saying what he actually thought.

My mother had also sent toys. Yes, my mother. What did you think? That I wouldn't tell my parents about my daughter? No, I told them. I called them up the week after DNA came through. I told them to sit down, and let me finish before they said anything. I knew I would have a hard time saying it all, so the last thing I needed was a hundred questions before I was finished.

I told them that I had news. I told them everything, about Lisa, about Beth and about Greg.

If they were disappointed about Greg they didn't say anything. It was almost disappointing that they didn't react more. All the time I had been so afraid of telling them, they could at least have given me a chance to fire off some of my long practised arguments, but they only said they loved me no matter who I chose to share my life with. And they already knew that Greg is a good man. They were happy for me. Glad I had someone.

As for Lisa. They were sorry. Sorry that she has lost her mom, but they were happy to be able to include her into their rather large stock of grandchildren. They were sorry that they had missed out on her three first years, but they are doing all they can to make up for that. They have sent her late birthday gifts and Christmas gifts for the years that had passed. And they are showing her picture to everyone that is willing to look, and then some. It's almost a good thing that they live so far away, or this child would be in immediate danger of being seriously spoiled by her grandparents. But considering the circumstances, none of us really think she being pampered and spoiled a bit is a bad thing.

* * *

It's now been four months since Lisa was handed over to my care. We have had our ups and downs. Our victories and failures.

My worst day I think was the day we both cried our eyes out. She was having nightmares, I was having doubts. All she could do was scream and I didn't know what to do. Her face was all red, her eyes spilling over, and she was shaking with sobs. I tried to figure out what was wrong but I couldn't understand a word she was saying, and I knew I was failing as a father. So there we were, both crying out of fear and exhaustion, when Greg came walking though the door. He took one look at us and walked right over to give both of us a hug. It didn't help much on the crying, but it surely helped to feel loved. I never figured out what she dreamt that night, I can only assume it was about the night I first met her, the night her mother died. But I did get to have a long talk with my boyfriend though. After Lisa had worn herself out and fallen asleep on the couch, Greg carried her to bed, and made me a good cup of tea. Normally he would have given me coffee, but a caffeine bomb would be a bad choice at the moment; I needed to relax, not get a boost.

"I don't know her," I told him as he came back.

"She's new to you," he assured me. "You aren't supposed to know her yet."

"But fathers are supposed to know their kids. They are supposed to be there for them when they have a nightmare, and be able to calm them down. They are supposed to understand what their crying baby is saying."

"And you will," Greg simply said.

He has a way of getting through to me, and somehow he managed to convince me that all parents need time to get to know their kids, and I had a late start, that's all. Most parents of three year olds have known their kids for three years already, I had only had a few weeks. I could accept that, it didn't make it much easier though, but I could accept that it would get better with time. And it made me realize how much I love Greg. If he weren't there to pick me up now and then, I would probably have fallen apart many times. But he was, and still is, the best support.

My happiest day though, that must have been the day she had a tantrum. It was about 2 months after she moved in. She threw her head back screaming because I wouldn't let her have ice cream before dinner, and I couldn't have been happier. You see, the way I see it, that was when she had stopped being afraid of me and seeing me as a stranger, and considered me safe enough to fight against. I was almost tempted to reward her with the ice cream.

* * *

So I have a fear.

Not about being a father per se. I know now, that I can be a father, and with Greg's help, I might even turn out to be a decent one. I know now that I can do my best to protect her, and that I can feed her and meet all her basic needs, and then some. And I know now that Greg is just the best step-father that you can find.

No, I have a fear.

I used to be afraid of being hurt or killed because of leaving Greg and my family. I thought about how they would miss me. Now I am terrified of not being around to watch Lisa growing up. It's not so much that I am afraid what she would do without me. I know Greg would take care of her, and my family would always be there for her. But it scares me to death thinking about not watching her grow up. I want to be there on her confirmation, I want to intimidate her boyfriends, and walk her down the aisle. I need to see that she is okay, and I simply cannot let anything happen to me before I know that she has gone through life relatively unharmed.

While I am still afraid of Greg being hurt, I am ten times more afraid of getting a phone call that tells me that she is in the hospital. I want to wrap her in cotton wool and hold her close forever. It was her mother and I that started her life, it was our responsibility to help her though it, and now she has only me left.

I have a fear, and that is not failing as a parent, it is love. This feeling of love for this human being is so strong, much stronger than I have ever felt before. I love Greg, no doubt about that, but this, this is much stronger. This need to keep her safe is so overwhelming, that's eating me alive. I am afraid of having this strong emotions, I don't know how to handle them. And I am afraid I'm gonna have to live with that fear forever. But I take that any day over what choice Beth was given; she lost it all.


End file.
